create a barrier against Troy. It’s a pathetic effort, but valid. “What are we watching?”
“One of my favorite TV shows of all times. You’re probably a fan, actually.”
“Oh? What is it?”
“Supernatural.”
“What? Are you crazy? I’m not watching that.”
Troy’s expression falls. “Why not?”
“Because it’s fucking scary. I told you I don’t do horror.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“Do you think this is the face of someone who’s joking?” I draw a circle in the air to emphasize my point.
“Charlie, Supernatural is not a horror series. Where did you get that idea?”
“From watching the first episode. I was freaked out.”
“Okay, fine. I concede that the first season is a little spooky, but it gets better after that. Trust me, you’ll love it.”
“I don’t know.” I nibble on my lower lip.
Everyone I know has been bugging me to watch the damn series for years. Maybe I should try again. Besides, if it gets too scary, I can always jump in Troy’s arms and hide my face against his chest. Maybe that’s what he’s banking on. But I can’t refuse him when he’s giving me those puppy eyes.
“Fine. But if I have nightmares, it’s on you.”
“If you have nightmares, you’re more than welcome to sleep with me.” He laughs.
“Oh, I bet that’s exactly what you want.”
“Charlie, you really have the worst ideas about me.”
“Yeah, yeah. Put it on already before I change my mind.”
He chuckles. “That’s what she said.”
“I said put it on, not in.”
“Sure, sure.”
28
TROY
I can’t believe how close I came to screwing up the evening. Why did I think watching Supernatural would be a good idea? Even if Charlie wasn’t scared, there’s the little issue that the TV show features two attractive dudes.
We’re about to start episode five, and the wine is finally catching up with me. My eyelids are getting heavy, but Charlie doesn’t seem tired in the least. She’s tense, however, clutching the blanket in a tight grip.
“Charlie?”
“Yeah?” She turns to me.
“You know, it’s okay if you want to scooch closer.”
She hesitates, not moving for a couple beats, and I’m sure she’s going to say no. To my surprise, she does shorten the distance between us, and when I throw my arm over her shoulders, she leans against my chest and lets me cradle her.
Unable to resist, I run lazy circles over her exposed skin with the tips of my fingers. She doesn’t stop me; if anything, she gets nearer, making my blood pump faster. I don’t want to make a move too soon, so I force my attention to the screen. The first two minutes of the episodes are always intense and scary, and this one is no different. Sam and Dean are facing Bloody Mary.
Charlie is rigid against me, and when the scary part comes, she hides her face against my chest, making me laugh.
“Stop laughing. I hate horror shit.”
“I’m sorry, but you’re too funny.”
She eases out of my embrace, lifting her chin to glare at me. “I’m not too funny.”
Her eyebrows are furrowed into a scowl, and her plump lips are set in a severe line. Right now, she’s not funny at all. She’s a sexy, pissed-off vixen.
“You’re right. You’re not funny.” My voice comes out strained. “You’re Venus personified.”
I kiss her before she looks away, pulling her flush against my body once more. Her lips taste like chocolate, a trace of the lava cake she had for dessert. It awakens the hunger in me that was already hovering just below the surface. I try to move us to a horizontal position, but my right arm is trapped by the sling.
I pull back. “This thing has got to go.”
Quickly, I release the clasp behind my neck, freeing my arm so I can better appreciate Charlie.
“Are you sure you should be doing this?” she asks.
“I’m okay.” I push her back on the couch and then yank the blanket from her grasp.
Her dark hair fans around her lovely face. Her lips are partly open, her cheeks are flushed, and her blue eyes are laced with desire. Fuck. I’m going to lose this bet in an epic fashion, and I don’t care. All my blood has converged in my cock, leaving my brain at its mercy.
“Do you have something to say, Troy?” she asks in a dangerous, husky tone.
Her velvety voice is like a caress, a prelude of what’s to come. She knows she has me exactly where she wants me.
“I do. I—”
The shrill ringtone of her phone interrupts my speech of defeat. I expect her to ignore it, but her hazy eyes